


Cornet

by MistressGalahat



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Birthday, Birthday Presents, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Spain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressGalahat/pseuds/MistressGalahat
Summary: Still in Spain after the GPF, Yuri gives Victor a day trip to Madrid as a birthday present. Fluff, talks about the future, and of course, sightseeing.





	

There is a star in Victor’s hair.

In his eyes. In his heart. In the way he breathes so gently while hugging the pillow close to him. The duvet has been steadily gliding off of Victor’s shoulder for the last ten minutes, but Yuri has yet to interrupt and stop it from falling. With the way Victor is like a pristine piece of ice in a hotel room in Madrid, there is no reason to wake him just yet.

Yuri heaves a sigh through his nose, the motion jostling a strand of silver that trickles down Victor’s cheek. Lashes melted white with sleep, his eyes flutter open, slowly and relaxed as he spots Yuri staring.

“Morning,” he whispers, breaking the silence that has been kept up for the last fifteen minutes that Yuri has been awake. Victor snuggles further into his pillow, groaning as the sun decides to peek in through their curtains and land on his half naked form.

“Merry Christmas, Victor,” Yuri whispers back, breath ghosting over his own pillow. “And happy birthday.” Victor sits up, a hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Yuri,” he mutters. “Am I getting old?” He looks downtrodden, hair flopping down and fringe covering his eyes. Victor is like a pouting child, but Yuri knows him well enough to give out a small laugh at the mere notion.

Victor throws the pillow, but there is a smile on his face as he does so. Yuri doesn’t dodge, and takes the mass of down like a man, half falling off their twin beds. They pushed the beds together after the Grand Prix Final, and although it was their last day in Spain, they were both reluctant to put the furniture back in its rightful place.

“Last day, Yuri. We should pack our things and figure out what to do before we head to the airport tonight.”

Yuri struggles to find his glasses, fingers tapping the edge of his bed table for a solid few seconds before he comes across the blue frames. They look ridiculous upside down, Yuri admits. “Actually, I already have a plan for what we should do today. If you don’t mind, that is?” It’s hard to not let his nervousness still affect him, considering he has been sharing a bed with Victor for quite some time, but old habits die hard. And Victor simply has that effect on most people, even those who have known him personally for nearly a year.

A year.

It suddenly sounds even more impossible than Yuri had figured when he looked back on it. To think he had been so close to giving up on his skating, only for Victor to turn everything upside down.

Yuri fishes an envelope from the bed table, stowed away in a creaky old drawer that draws Victor’s attention. “What’s that?” There is no answer, but Yuri throws an encouraging smile and holds it out for his fiancé to take.

He nearly giggles out loud at the thought of  _ fiancé _ .

The tear of paper as Victor struggles to open the envelope rips Yuri from his wandering thoughts. He is already starting to regret his decision when Victor stares at the two train tickets to Madrid with a frown. “Ah, I figured, since we’ve been spending the last few days seeing a lot of what Barcelona has to offer, maybe we could go somewhere else for the last day?” Heat boils in Yuri’s cheeks, and he can’t stop the flow of words that tumble from his mouth. “We don’t have to, though, it was just a suggestion-”

“Yuri.” Victor cradles his warm cheek with one hand, the feeling of a cold ring calming. “I want to go.” He doesn’t have to say anything else, but gives him a pleased smile and pecks a gentle kiss on Yuri’s lips. There is no movement left in Yuri’s body, even as Victor slithers off to get dressed.

A bubbling mass of happiness is curling in Yuri’s stomach, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

 

*

 

They get off at Retiro station.

It is far from beautiful and overwhelming in the way that only architecture can make you. Yuri wasn’t entirely sure what he should have expected, but whatever it was wasn’t this. Not the canary yellow walls that has him shrinking in on himself, and not the complicated tube map of colours that greet Victor and him upon immediate arrival.

They struggle to find their way out, but somehow they manage with Victor’s meager Spanish skills as their only point of reference. It is fairly strange to be somewhere away from the rest of the figure skating world, and Yuri has to admit it is like living in a bubble while the Grand Prix Finals went on.

“Yuri, let’s go here!” Victor drags him along, but his is happy and smiling and Yuri can’t help but do the same - even if his hand is getting warmer and warmer as Victor refuses to let go.

No one stops them as they stroll through El Retiro Park, hand in hand. It’s the difference that Yuri likes the best, because in this small world, Victor is all his. There is no pressure to show the world that he alone holds Victor’s heart, and there are no fellow skaters to compete with.

“It’s beautiful,” says Victor. The lake is only partially frozen, and while the weather is cold enough for Victor to have a scarf bundled around his neck, the frost has yet to set in properly.

Yuri intertwines his fingers with Victor’s, stroking a thumb over the back of Victor’s hand and relishing in the feel of their gloves squeezed together. “It really is,” he says. “Shame it’s not completely frozen. It would have been an exceptional rink.” Their brains can never let go of the ice, and Victor laughs in return to Yuri’s observation.

“Quite the large rink,” he snorts. “Might take a few skaters to fill it up.” Victor bumps a shoulder against Yuri, and he doesn’t draw away. They lean against each other, frosty breaths filling the air with crystalline mist.

Victor pulls away first, but the hand never leaves Yuri’s own.

They find themselves strolling down a street of expensive apartments, all white and incredibly arches that makes Yuri’s head spin as he tries to make out the different features on each windowsill. He barely manages to avoid propelling into Victor as the other man comes to a stop and drags him into a restaurant.

It’s dimly lit, with dark wood panels and cosy little lamps that pulls them in. The waiters don’t speak any sort of English, but Victor is hungry and they end up ordering to things from the menu that they have no idea how to pronounce.

The waiter is fine with it as soon as Victor pulls out one of his charming smiles, and if Yuri squeezes Victor’s hand a little tighter under the tablecloth, no one needs to be the wiser. Although it does make Victor smile as soon as the waiter turns around with their order, and has the Russian man trying to nuzzle his cheek. (“But my nose is cold, Yuri, and you’re so warm and nice!”)

Yuri blushes throughout their entire meal, but there is the emotions brewing in the pit of his stomach again, as every time Victor looks at him, he can see the adoration in his eyes. It’s entirely uncommon. It’s kind of embarrassing too, but a happy Victor is a happy Yuri, so he indulges the older man and shuffles closer together in their tiny corner of the dim restaurant.

The food is good, albeit different and still indiscernible even after seeing it on a plate. Victor snaps a picture of the menu for his instagram, asking his fans for a translation, but Yuri insists they don’t check out the answers until they have finished eating.

It’s a good thing they do, as Yuri is quite certain he wouldn’t have eaten braised oxtail with jalapeños if he had known beforehand. It is undeniably good, though, and Victor makes him swear to try more foods with him wherever they end up next.

‘Next’ is a wide description though, and Yuri tries not to think about it too much. Next country? Next competition? Next skate? His mind is a place with little room for anything but his thoughts, and as they race a mile a minute, Victor is the only one able to fully drag him out of it.

He doesn’t register their change of scenery until they are once again standing in the middle of a Christmas market. It reminds Yuri of the one in Barcelona, and his ears flush red as his eyes seek out the matching rings on their hands. They are hidden beneath warm mittens, but Yuri can spot the small rise of it just underneath Victor’s dark glove.

The Christmas lights are bright and surreal as the sun sets and the flashing chains of snow drops and starts flicker to life. Victor strolls with a hum under his breath, but Yuri can’t take his eyes off of him. Under the light, when they hit the strip of glowing pink, Yuri is reminded of Victor’s costume from last year.

Bright pink that shone with confidence, even when Yuri flopped almost everything during his own routine. The flow of a jacket, and the gold skates that belonged only on Victor.

Yuri is the one to kiss him this time, under the giant Christmas tree that lights up the entire Plaza Mayor. He doesn’t break it, even if the stares from other shoppers are making his fingers twitch and his nose clash against Victor’s.

“Unexpected,” says Victor, lips plush and pink in the dim light. “But entirely appreciated.” He kisses Yuri again, for good measure. And there is a force behind it, a heated fever, that makes Yuri stumble as he stands still.

They leave quickly after that. Too many people at the Plaza, and Victor checks his instagram as recommendations for places to visit floods in on the screen. The Russian dismisses most of them, but he loops his arm over Yuri’s shoulder and steers him in the direction of a large glass and steel building.

Yuri’s love flooded mind would have missed it, if it hadn’t been for Victor - but his fiancé is insistent, and he doesn’t regret the decision to play along. The sign in front of the place is yet another name that means little to him, although Mercado de San Miguel registers somewhere in his brain.

It turns out to be a foodmarket.

There are more things Yuri has no idea what is, but Victor is like an excited child, bouncing from one stall to another and somehow snagging a free sample for the both of them. (Half of those stalls probably didn’t even give out samples, but Yuri knows his fiancé well enough that just a smile with teeth will get him just about anything from the public).

The chocolate is good, although pricey, and they end up buying a small box for when they see Yurio next time. Yakov gets one too, although Victor is incredibly particular about what goes in it, and Yuri can’t figure out if that’s a good thing or not. He resorts to not being around when Yakov opens it, just in case.

“Yuri, do you want to share one of those?” Victor points at yet another glass case, this one containing some sort of cornet dipped in chocolate. It is exactly the sort of thing that Victor tends to fall for in regards to sweets, so Yuri agrees with a nod of his head.

“Sure,” he says to Victor and turns to the vendor. He tries to point at it at first, but there are too many people despite the late time, so he ends up going for it with some sort of broken Spanish. “Ano… Un cucurucho con chocolate, por favor?” It seems to do the job, although Yuri is certain he butchered most of it, and his intonation must have been way off.

Little thinking is involved in where they go next, but when they exit Mercado de San Miguel - cucurucho firmly in Victor’s gloved hands - they both spot the spray painted unicorn on a door.

It leads down a winding street that makes Yuri turn at every unexpected noise, but there is no discouraging Victor from following the white unicorn proclaiming D’ Fabula. It reminds Yuri of the word fabulous, which is probably why Victor decided they should go down that particular street.

There are really no people, and they only come across one other couple who looks to have been married for at least fifty years. Victor makes a noise under his breath as they walk past the two elderly people, and there is no stopping the smile from bursting out on Yuri’s face as Victor lifts his hand and kisses the spot where his ring rests.

A giggle escapes him, and they kiss on a cold street in Madrid, the shine of a half alive lamp post all the lightsource they have. There is so much happiness, it is easy to forget all the worry and concern that had been his life since the GPF.

“Victor?”

“Hm?”

Their feet leads them further away from the center of the city, but there’s a tiny square with trees and a fountain with no water. The statues surrounding the place are tall, and while Yuri has no idea who they are, or what the signs say; the feel of Victor pressed against his side is comfortable and loving. “When we get back to Japan… How is this going to work?”

Victor tugs him closer and leans his chin on Yuri’s shoulder. “What do you mean, Yuri?” It takes some time before either of them notice how alone they are. The entire city is empty but the two of them, and Yuri feels only the warmth of Victor as they gaze up at one of the statues.

“How are you going to continue coaching me with Yakov still in Russia?”

Victor frowns, Yuri can feel the motion through the cloth of his jacket, a puff of air against the shell of his ear that results in a shiver. “I was going to wait until we got back to Hasetsu, but since you brought it up…” Victor twirls him around, and Yuri barely manages to stay on his feet. There’s a hand on his waist as he is being dipped down like a dancer at a theater, but there is only Victor and a blinding smile.

“Give Yurio that box of chocolate and tell him that you’ll share a rink with him.” He hefts the plastic bag higher, but Yuri only hears the crinkle of it. “Move in with me, Yuri Katsuki. Come to Skt. Petersburg and listen to the seagulls in the morning while we laze around in bed, pondering what to do for the day.” Victor doesn’t loosen his grip, and his hair trickles over as gravity decides to help them along.

Victor Nikiforov is ethereal in the light of Madrid.

“Yes,” says Yuri, eyes wide. “Yes.” He surges up, gloved fingers curling into Victor’s hair and tugging him even closer. Their breath is hot and heavy as their mouths clashes, but they are alone and euphoric in each other’s company.

Suddenly he is being pulled up, but Yuri rolls with it as Victor spins him around. It takes Yuri a second to recognize the moves that follow. The familiar step sequence has Yuri on his feet with a startled laughter.

They curl in on each other. They jump and spin and dance. They gather in one another’s embrace and share kisses until their lips ache.

They dance to a silent version of ‘Stay Close to Me’ in front of the Royal Palace of Madrid.

**Author's Note:**

> Victor deserves a birthday fic that is pure fluff. And because that 'Stay Close to Me' pair skate in episode twelve absolutely destroyed me.


End file.
